Inevitable
by Sakrea
Summary: Even though he had long accepted his inevitable fate, Ironfist is thankful to have someone to share his thoughts with. Ironfist/Perceptor, Warning: Mech slash, mech kissing, character death, Spoilers for "Last Stand of the Wreckers" issue #5.


With a great yawn and a popping of joints that sounded nearly mechanical, Verity announced her awakening to the Autobots occupying the room.

"You guys are still transferring Aequitas?" The human asked, sitting up on her perch.

Said perch happened to be the crook of Ironfist's arm. "It's a lot of information." The blue and white mech replied with a shrug, jostling the girl.

"You guys are a super advanced race of robots, I thought by now someone might have come up with a faster way to download files." Verity scoffed, sliding off of him to land first on the mechs leg, and then jumping once more down to the floor.

"This is the faster way." Perceptor noted, back to the pair as he observed the downloading process.

The human girl gave a brief shrug before dropping a hand on Ironfist's leg. He glanced down at her. "Well if you don't mind then, I'll go check on Maggie and get some food. Maybe when I get back the download will be half done." She snorted.

Ironfist gave a nod of approval and silently wondered just how Ultra Magnus felt about that nickname Verity had given him. According to his research, the nickname resembled a human female name. "Sounds like a good idea."

Verity grinned up at him before removing her hand from his leg and heading toward the door. "See ya in an hour or so, gentlemechs."

Ironfist gave her a half hearted wave, wondering if an hour would bring her back in time for the inevitable… No, she would come back, he did still have time. He was sure of it.

Of course, despite the mental assurance, the physical pain continued to make him anxious. He knew he shouldn't be though. Back when he'd joined the Wreckers, he'd accepted his fate. In fact, that had been part of the deal. He was aware of what was going to happen and he knew that there was no way to prevent it.

Looking back, he wondered if he did the right thing though. Sure, the Wreckers meant everything to him and yes, the time with them had opened his optics in a way he wasn't sure possible at the time. But maybe… Just maybe, he could have spent the remaining solar cycles doing something different.

With a heavy venting of air, Ironfist leaned back against the wall, arms resting over his legs, and his head hanging just slightly.

Perceptor cast a glance over his shoulder at the sound. For a moment, he seemed to examine him before he turned back to the download screen. A few tapping of keys and his optics peeked back over his shoulder.

"Ironfist." The sniper said. "Is there something on your mind?"

The engineer perked up slightly, giving Perceptor a surprised look. "Well actually, yeah. I kinda—"

"Because it seems to be affecting the download." The red mech finished, seemingly oblivious to the other's words.

Ironfist drooped again. "Right. Sorry. I'll stop."

Once more, Perceptor gave him an examining look. His head tilted slightly. "You can't stop." He noted.

Ironfist shrugged. "What am I supposed to do? Shut my processor down so the download goes faster?" he suggested. He forced back a wince at that thought. Right, like he really wanted to spend the last few cycles of his existence in a self-induced stasis.

Thankfully, the sniper seemed to find the idea to be unnecessary. "I would suggest resolving the internal problem. It should free up more processor space for the download."

"Resolving it isn't exactly an easy thing to do, Perceptor."

"Perhaps talking about it then?" The red mech suggested, watching him.

"I don't think you want to hear me whine." Ironfist replied. Inside, though he highly doubted such a thing, he hoped that perhaps, the other mech might be willing to hear him out…

"There is little else to do at this time. If I can offer my own knowledge to help you solve a problem that Aequitas cannot, I will do so." Perceptor said.

Ironfist's optics brightened in surprise. Honestly, he hadn't been expecting the mech to be willing to listen. For the short time he'd personally known the scientist turned sniper, he'd been cold and merely logical toward him. During the entire incident in G-9, the only vibe he'd gotten off of the red mech was a sense of importance. He had also easily been able to tell that to Perceptor, the newest additions to the Wreckers were indeed disposable.

Despite this, Ironfist realized that if he wanted to tell anyone something before the end, it would be this mech. If there was anything he wanted to pass on, now was the time. Yet, faced with this knowledge, he could hardly come up with anything to say.

After several moments of silence, Ironfist's optics turned toward his lap and Perceptor looked away once more.

"I'm just so tired of being lonely!" Ironfist suddenly burst out. Once the words left his vocalizor though, he immediately felt foolish. He turned his head and peered down at the floor.

"You are not alone." Perceptor replied easily, turning back around to face him. "From what I have heard, you have always been in the presence of friends."

Ironfist turned his optics up to peer hesitantly at the bot. Dare he continue? Perceptor already seemed to have misunderstood him…

Yes, he'd never been truly alone. He'd always had friends around him, urging him on, being there for him. With each base he'd been transferred to, he'd slipped into a circle of mechs with a fair amount of ease. Yet... He'd never truly been a part of them. He could join in their laughs and their good times, but all the while he was separate. He was different from them. Not special, just different…

Many might adhere it to his obsessions. Whether it be his experiments or his research, he'd always been a bit strange in his work. It wasn't just that though. His mindset was unlike that of his fellow Autobots.

"It's not just friends I mean." Ironfist admitted.

Perceptor's optics flashed briefly in what the blue mech thought was surprise. "I see… So you are unbonded. It is not uncommon for a mech of your age."

"I've never been with anyone. Ever." Ironfist corrected, suddenly wondering if he really should be sharing this with the sniper. Especially since it was likely that the mech would only tell him he had plenty of time to find his intended.

"This war takes up so much of our lives, it is often easy to lose track of the time we have for ourselves." Perceptor said, his tone surprisingly soft. "We never know how much time we have left."

To Ironfist, it seemed almost as if the sniper was talking from personal experience. It sounded almost as if he had lost someone close to him in the war. Well, it was not unusual after all...

"Sometimes you do."

Perceptor's optics turned sharply to stare at Ironfist. "Do you?"

"You'll get just enough time to remove Aequitas from my processor."

There was a long stretch of silence in which Perceptor seemed at a loss of words and Ironfist seemed equally disinclined to speak.

"I'm sorry." Perceptor said finally.

"There's nothing I can do." Ironfist responded lamely. "Don't worry about it."

Once more, there was a silence that descended over the room. Perceptor seemed uneasy with the new information, watching the other mech carefully. It seemed he understood that sympathy was not something that Ironfist was fishing for and it would do no good.

On the other side of the room, Ironfist briefly offlined his optics and leaned his head back into the wall. It was moving again, he could feel it. There was a dull ache that quickly escalated into a near blinding flash of pain. Luckily he was so used to it by now, that instead of screaming, his body simply rebooted, slumping against the wall.

When his processor came online again, he was quickly aware of two things. The first was the placement of the bullet. That was his last blackout. The next time it inched its way farther into his processor, he was dead. The second was that Perceptor was nowvery close, leaning over him, a worried look plastered across his faceplates.

"Lemmie guess, it interrupted the download?" Ironfist groaned.

Perceptor ignored the question, placing a hand on the other bot's chest plating. It was a rather comforting gesture, something that surprised the blue bot. "Are you okay?"

"For the time being." Ironfist replied, trying to sit up. He found that the motion only made the room spin wildly and caused the bot towering over him to firmly press him back down.

"You don't have much longer?" Perceptor questioned, once more looking surprisingly worried.

Ironfist gave a soft nod, finding that keeping his optics on the other bot's face plates made everything seem much more stable.

The fingers on his chest armor tightened minutely as the sniper leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Ironfist's mask. "You will not be alone." He murmured softly.

The blue mech's optics lit and he felt his spark swell. With a soft click, his mask split down the middle and slid to the sides, exposing his mouth.

Perceptor lowered himself once more, drawing a kiss across his lips as his hand slid behind the blue mech's helm. Ironfist reached out to grasp the sniper's shoulder, drawing their bodies together softly.

"Thank you..." Ironfist said amidst the kiss, feeling a wetness pool around his optics.

When Verity returned, she was left to stop, frozen in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. "W-What happened?" she gasped. "Did he…. Did he have another blackout?"

Perceptor sat, cradling Ironfist with a care she had not known the sniper capable of. When Verity spoke, he looked up at her with a optics full of sorrow. "No."

Ever so gently, the sniper lowered the Ironfist's lifeless body to the floor, taking care to lay his head out. With the action, Verity let out a sob. She didn't need anyone to tell her what had happened.

"Was it peaceful?" she asked, liquid streaming down from her eyes.

"Yes." Perceptor murmured. "He went in peace." He was not alone.

In the background, the monitor gave a steady beep. Though long forgotten, the download had produced one successful copy of Aequitas.


End file.
